


I Would Have Loved You

by Midnight_Queen



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Also you may want some tissues, Angst, Asra doesn't actually appear in the fic but is mentioned a little, F/M, Gen, My apprentice is a mess, So much angst, Tagged for Asra anyway?, The Red Plague, everyone is a mess, i'm bad at tags i'm sorry, julian is a mess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-10-13 10:58:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17486873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Midnight_Queen/pseuds/Midnight_Queen
Summary: “No no no NO!” she wailed as the tears fell. “This can’t be. I can’t be sick. I can’t be dying. I’m not ready to go. I don’t want to go…” she mumbled helplessly. Even so, she knew there was nothing she could do now. Working at the clinic and apprenticing with Julian had taught her all too well the symptoms of a plague victim whose days, or sometimes hours, were numbered."Esperanza discovers she is sick with the plague. She has some things to say to some important people in her life before the end, and so she writes. Julian discovers Esperanza's shop abandoned, and learns she was sick and has been taken to the Lazaret. He feels all kinds of ways about it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own The Arcana visual novel, or any of those characters mentioned in this piece. It all belongs to Nix Hydra.
> 
> Set during the Red Plague days, while my apprentice was working with Julian at the clinic as his apprentice, before Julian goes to work at the palace.

Esperanza could do nothing to stop the sob that bubbled up from her chest as she looked at herself in the mirror. It left her throat raw and aching, another damning testament to what she had feared since the night before. Last night, she had tried to pass off the slightly bloodshot look in her eyes as a result of prolonged stress and probably severe lack of sleep. Today, a cough rattled her chest and stung her throat. Today, her eyes were bright, bloody red, even as they filled with tears. She was sick. She had the plague. She was going to die.

Her sobs brought on another coughing fit, and Esperanza turned away from the mirror. She leaned against the wall, sliding down to curl into a miserable heap on the floor, running her hands through her sandy blonde hair.

“No no no NO!” she wailed as the tears fell. “This can’t be. I can’t be sick. I can’t be dying. I’m not ready to go. I don’t want to go…” she mumbled helplessly. Even so, she knew there was nothing she could do now. Working at the clinic and apprenticing with Julian had taught her all too well the symptoms of a plague victim whose days, or sometimes hours, were numbered.

_The clinic. What am I going to tell Julian?_ The thought struck Esperanza like a bolt of lightning. _Oh god I can’t tell him. I can’t leave him alone to deal with the clinic by himself. He barely eats and sleeps as it is. And what about all those people? I can’t just abandon them. I can still help them._

With her thoughts swirling like late summer storm clouds, Esperanza tried more than once to stand, eventually stumbling to her feet to get dressed. She took a deep, shuddering breath that left an ache in her chest as she confronted her reflection again. This time, Esperanza lifted her chin defiantly at the woman in the mirror. She pulled her hair back into a messy bun and cast a quick spell that would conceal the red in her eyes. With that, she spun on her heel and left her shop, heading straight for the clinic.

* * *

 

Esperanza was exhausted when she returned home. Every muscle in her body ached, her chest especially. Her throat was raw no matter how much water she drank. Her head alternated between feeling fuzzy, as if her brain had been stuffed with cotton, and a sharp, throbbing pain behind her eyes. She sighed deeply as she leaned on the front counter of the shop, still trying to sort through her thoughts. She had hoped her work at the clinic would distract her, but it only seemed to bring her face to face with her mortality, and gave her an intimate knowledge of how she would feel at the end.

Esperanza pulled herself away from the counter long enough to gather her writing supplies. She had always written her feelings down on paper; it helped clear her mind, and it gave her a physical entity to confront when she had a complicated issue to sort through. _Besides…_ she thought. _It’s not like I can do much of anything else anymore._

Writing down her feelings quickly turned into worrying and writing about how her family would feel when they found out about what was happening to her. How her brother, her parents, her aunts and cousins would feel to know that the same terrible plague that had supposedly taken Tía Maria was going to take her as well. Esperanza felt the tears streaming down her face as she stared at the pages. _They need to know that I love them. They need to know I was happy with my life. That it’s okay to be upset, and to grieve. That Tía Maria and I will watch over them from wherever we go after this._ She thought desperately, quickly pulling out fresh sheets of paper.

Esperanza soon found herself writing letters to everyone in her family, and the important people and friends she had made since moving to Vesuvia. She assured her family she loved them, she was happy with her life and how it had gone. Tearfully, she informed her brother that she would not be able to come home for his daughter’s third birthday, and that she was sorry he would now have to find a way to explain to Natalia that her aunt would not be visiting anymore. Her frenzied writing paused for a moment as she stared at the beginning of a new letter.

_Dear Asra, my closest friend._ She had written. What to say to Asra? Esperanza regretted their fight for weeks, had regretted the hurtful things she had said as soon as they left her mouth. She had a feeling Asra did too. She missed Asra. The shop felt a little emptier, a little colder when it was just her. She missed how they were close enough to share all their secrets, comfortable enough to share space without a second thought. She missed the bright laughter and warmth that seemed to follow Asra around. Esperanza wrote.

When she had finished her letters, Esperanza addressed them all and left them in a neat stack on the counter. _There’s one more you should write._ _There are several things you should say to him._ A small voice in the back of her mind told her. Esperanza shook her head.

“I can’t. I can’t do that to him. What good does it do to tell Julian that I love him when I know I won’t be around to say it in person?” she cried. “I can’t hurt him like that.”

Even as she said it, Esperanza knew she would write the letter anyway. Julian deserved to know that her becoming sick was not his fault. He deserved to know that she believed in him, that she still had hope that he would find a cure. Even if Esperanza didn’t confess all the reasons she had fallen in love with him, if she took her heart’s deepest desires to the grave with her, Julian deserved to know how much he meant to her as a mentor, as a close friend. Taking a deep breath, Esperanza steeled herself and began to write again, finding herself once again unable and unwilling to stop the tears as they fell down her face and dropped onto the page.

* * *

 

They came for her in the dead of night, knocking loudly on her door. Esperanza had known they would; the plague doctors working at the palace had been ordered to bring those who were sick to the Lazaret. She shuddered at the thought. She could often see the pillars of smoke that rose from the island and she had heard rumors of the terrible things that happened there. Esperanza was never sure whether the rumors were true. She did not want to find out. They knocked at the door again.

“Just a moment!” Esperanza yelled, wincing as the words clawed their way out of her throat. Esperanza had exactly one black dress, the one she had worn to Tía Maria’s funeral. She figured it would be as appropriate for today as anything else she owned.

Esperanza had barely made it down the stairs before the plague doctors forced their way into her house and one of them roughly seized her arm, dragging her towards the door. The other began a long-winded and unnecessary speech about their orders from the palace to bring anyone who was found to be sick to the Lazaret. Esperanza gasped in surprise, not having expected the violence. _What gives them the right? Is it not enough that I’m sick and dying? Do they really need to barge into my home and treat me like this?_ She fumed silently.

In that moment, something inside Esperanza snapped. _No. They don’t get to do this to me. If I’m leaving this place, I’m doing so on my own terms. If I’m going to die, I’ll do that on my own terms as well._ She thought, kicking out the knees of the plague doctor who held tightly to her arm. They fell backwards and Esperanza broke free of their grip, stumbling into the counter and grabbing the empty bottle there. The other person lunged for her and she ducked under their arms, elbowing them in the stomach and side. The one she had kicked grabbed her arm again, and she spun to face them, smashing the bottle she held over their head.

Suddenly, she was grabbed from behind, and the person’s arm came up to cover her mouth. Esperanza instinctively bit down on the plague doctor’s forearm, viciously satisfied when she tasted blood and the doctor cried out in pain. Some vengeful part of her, deep down, hoped they would get sick from the bite.

The plumes of smoke rising from the Lazaret loomed darkly before Esperanza as she was escorted to the docks. A chill ran down her spine and settled in her bones as she realized she would no longer have to wonder whether or not the rumors of what happened there were true. She would find out soon enough.


	2. Chapter 2

Julian had made a habit of going to Esperanza’s shop in the mornings to walk her to the clinic. He had begun the practice as a way to spend more time with her, to make sure she got home safely. These days, more often than not, she stayed overnight at his place. Julian smiled to himself, blushing slightly at the thought of there being three or four mornings a week where he woke up to find Esperanza curled up on his couch, or asleep with her head on his desk even after she had shooed him away from his work to rest.

The smile fell from his face as soon as he arrived at the shop. A large red ‘X’ was painted on the door. Julian stood outside for a moment, utterly dumbstruck. He made a strangled sound in the back of his throat as his mind began to race. _She can’t be gone. She can’t. She can’t have been sick, I just saw her yesterday. She was just fine yesterday._ He thought.

“Oh no. No no no no.” Julian muttered as he rushed into the shop. He stopped in the middle of the floor, shuddering slightly. It was cold. Esperanza’s shop now felt cold and empty in a way Julian never remembered it being before. The space was familiar and foreign at the same time. Everything was in the same places he remembered them, the counter, the shelves and all the books on them. Even the small reading nook Esperanza had at the back corner, near the closed door to the back room, was untouched. Yet the place lacked the warmth, the comforting atmosphere it usually had. It was missing the personality, the _life_ , that Esperanza brought to the place. _She’s really gone. They came to take her away._ Julian thought, tears prickling the corners of his eyes. His hand came up to cover his mouth as he took in the shattered glass all over the floor. Julian gave a small, watery smile at the thought that Esperanza had fought off the people who had come to take her, smashing a bottle over someone's head.

“Esperanza! Kirstin, my darling. How did I not notice you were sick? How could I let this happen to you?” Julian sobbed, crossing the floor to the counter and leaning on it heavily.

He buried his face in his hands and wept. When he lifted his head, not caring that his hair had fallen into his face, he noticed the neat pile of letters stacked on top of the counter. Julian felt his heart leap up into his throat. _She spent her final hours writing letters…Is there one there for me?_ He wondered. Truthfully, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know, or if he should even look through them to find out who they should be sent to.

Hesitantly, Julian reached for the stack of letters. The one on top of the stack had his name written on it in Esperanza's neat cursive. He whined, swallowing hard, as he felt his chest ache. A fresh wave of tears overtook him. Julian held the letter in one hand, staring at it, unsure whether or not he wanted to know its contents. The other hand came up to his mouth in a vain attempt to muffle the sobs that wracked his body. He sighed shakily and tore open the letter, pacing the shop as he read frantically.

 

_My Dearest Julian,_

_Not to be dramatic, but if you’re reading this, I am almost certainly dead. Please don’t blame yourself. There’s no way you could have known I was sick; I didn’t tell anyone, and I was still at the clinic until the day they came to take me away. None of this is your fault. Not whatever happened to me, nor anyone else who had the plague. You are doing all you can, and even more than that, you are doing your best. That’s all anyone can ask of you. I believe in you, Julian. Truly, I do. If there is anyone who can cure this plague, it’s you. Please don’t give up._

_I’ve been writing these letters all evening to make peace with the important people in my life. I want to tell you that I was happy, even at the end. I am happy with the way my life turned out. I lived it how I wanted to and thinking back now, I have few regrets. I’m not sure if you believe in an afterlife, Julian. But if you do, I want you to know I’ll be there, keeping an eye on you._

_I know I said I had few regrets, and I do. But there’s one thing I regret not doing while I was alive, and it does involve you. I regret not telling you how I felt, how I still feel. I thought for a long time about whether or not to even say so now, because I’d hate to hurt you. That’s the last thing I ever want. But you deserve to know, and part of me feels like I need to say it before I die._

_I’m in love with you. I love you with all my heart, and I think I have for weeks now. You’re a good man, Julian. I always admired how much you cared about people, the kindness you showed everyone who walked through the door at the clinic, and everyone you know. I love how passionate you are in everything you do. I love how, even in the midst of a plague, you found a way to laugh sometimes. I love how you animatedly told stories about swashbuckling pirates to the kids at the clinic because you knew they were afraid. I love how intelligent you are; you’re truly brilliant, Julian. Did you know you were the only doctor in town who would take me on as an apprentice, despite having little to no medical knowledge? You lent me your books and you taught me as much as you could in the time we had. You found out I knew magic and decided immediately that there must be something we could do together. And you were **right.** Julian, you were right. We may not have cured the plague (yet), but we were certainly able to do something for those who suffered. I love how the second you found out I knew how to dance, you quite literally swept me off my feet and asked if I would prefer to waltz or tango. There are so many more things I adore about you, Julian, but I really do not have enough paper to write them all down, and I’m running out of time as it is. I love you, Julian Devorak. I loved you until my last breath. I would have loved you for the rest of both our lives if we’d been given that kind of time, if we’d been able to have a life together…If, of course, you wanted that. If you loved me too. I was never able to figure out if you did. It’s perfectly fine if you didn’t or don’t, I hope you know. But, if you did or you do, you know now that I loved you too. And I genuinely, sincerely apologize for not talking about it while I was alive. I hope you can forgive me for that. _

_I hope you find happiness one day, Julian. You deserve to be happy._

_All my love,_

_Kirstin Esperanza Vazquez-Alvarado_

 

“ _If_ I loved you? Of course I loved you! You kind, brilliant, gorgeous, wonderful woman. I would have loved you so much, until my last day. Oh my dear, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” Julian’s voice cracked and echoed into the cold, silent room. He reread the letter again, leaning his back against the wall and sliding down until he sat in a heap on the floor. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t notice you were sick. I’m sorry I couldn’t help you, I couldn’t _save_ you. I’m sorry…” Julian trailed off with a sob, bringing his hand up to cover his eyes again.

“I’m sorry I never told you I loved you. If nothing else I should have done that...I would have loved that future with you. What a life we could have had!” Julian exclaimed. “We, we could have lived here, if you wanted to. I wouldn’t have minded the walk to the clinic every day, as long as I got to come back to you. To this place being warm and full of life. As long as I got to wake up every morning to see the calm, peaceful face you made when you were still asleep, and I got to hold you close and kiss you goodnight.” His voice cracked as Julian continued to weep.

“We could have danced through every room in this shop. We could have sailed across the world together, and maybe one day we would have found a dance you didn’t already know how to do.” Julian continued, laughing slightly in spite of himself.

“I would have loved to bring you to Nevivon one day, introduce you to my grandmas, to Pasha. They would have loved you. Gods, Pasha would have loved you so much. She would have teased us mercilessly about when the wedding would be, if she was ever going to be an aunt. We…We could have gotten married there, my dear, if you wanted to. Autumn was always my favorite, when the leaves were the colors of the sunset, and winter hadn’t frozen everything yet, but there was just a bit of a chill in the air. But I wouldn’t have been opposed to a spring wedding either. I could see you wearing a crown of flowers in your hair.” Julian sighed, going quiet for a long moment.

“Of course, that would have left your family out entirely. We would have gone to your home in Bebarsy too. Your city, Diabara, is a port city, you told me. We could have done it easily. I would have loved to meet your family. We might have had to have another wedding ceremony there, I think. That seems a bit dramatic though, even for me.” Julian snickered at the idea. “But it would have been worth it. To be able to call you my wife at every possible opportunity? I would have done anything. Gods I would have been absolutely terrible about it too. I would have taken very possible opportunity, Esperanza. Every one.” Julian paused, sniffling and wiping the tears from his face.

“I would have loved you every day for the rest of my life.” He whispered. “I think I might even now. I don’t know what made you believe in me so wholeheartedly, Esperanza, my dear, or if I even deserve your unwavering faith in me. But I will do everything in my power not to let you down. I _will_ find a cure for this plague.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is only the first part of this fic. I plan for there to be a second part, focusing on Julian. It should be up soon. In the meantime, please leave me a comment to let me know what you think! Have a nice day/night!


End file.
